


Freely Given

by MCsAngel2



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCsAngel2/pseuds/MCsAngel2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage contract is signed, and the wedding is set for tomorrow. Claire is nervous and conflicted, but in this what-if, she decides against spending the eve of her betrothal with a bottle of whisky in favor of better company.</p><p>On hiatus through spring 2018 due to a family situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“But…..doesn’t it bother you that I’m - not a virgin?” He hesitated a moment before answering._

_“Well, no,” he said slowly, “so long as it doesna bother you that I am.”_

*********************************************

I had drunk two glasses of the whisky while listening to the muffled commotion behind the common room door. Knowing that Jamie was having it out with Dougal and Ned and the others only inflamed my nerves, eradicating any calming effect the drink might have had. The desire to pursue oblivion at the bottom of a bottle while within hearing distance the argument fled; and I quietly set my glass down and retired to my chamber upstairs, there to spend a long night contemplating the new life that awaited me on the morrow.

As I sat on the bed, I looked over to the closed door. The scene from the previous evening replayed in my head, of Jamie’s gallant offer to sleep outside my door out of concern for my reputation and safety. I thought of the fleeting touch of our hands as I’d given him the blanket...which invited other memories of our time together that I had tried to forget. When I’d grieved for Frank in his arms after our arrival at Leoch. When he had escorted me back to the surgery after having drunk too much of Colum’s rhenish, and had looked at me with such intensity. I had caught his glances upon me so many times since we’d met, but I’d never wondered what they meant. I didn’t need to; inscrutable as his face usually was, I saw in it the same feelings I had been trying myself to ignore.

“Bloody hell,” I whispered to myself. “What am I going to do now?” As much as I’d protested to Dougal, I could not see any way out of this predicament that didn’t end with Captain Randall regaining custody of me. I didn’t know whether it was right to give in to self-preservation and go through with this marriage, or if I should continue to balk in the name of loyalty to a man everyone else believed to be dead. However, if I were being honest with myself, my main concern was whether I could marry Jamie and somehow keep my feelings - and desires - separate.

I rose from the bed and paced the room, my mind racing. I jumped as a door downstairs slammed shut. I glanced out the window and saw some of the men mount their horses in the stableyard and depart in different directions. Dougal and Willie went one way, Rupert and Angus another, and Ned and Murtagh each on their own solitary expeditions. I had no time to wonder about this before I heard Jamie’s steps coming up the stairs and a quiet knock on the door. I opened it to see him standing nervously before me.

“I just wanted to tell ye that everything will be ready for the - the wedding tomorrow morning. It will be done properly, in a church. I’ve made Dougal promise me that much.”

“Please, come in.” He hesitated and I explained, “I’d rather the rest of the customers and staff didn’t hear our business. Please.” He reluctantly crossed the threshold and I noticed that his ears had gone a bit pink. I closed the door and we stood silently for a minute, not knowing how to continue.

“I - thank you. For the church, I mean,” I stammered.

“I know this is no what ye would have wished, Sassenach. Claire.” He paused and seemed to be making up his mind to say something difficult. “But, I did make ye a promise, of sorts, the day that we returned to Leoch. I said ye need not be scairt of me nor anyone else so long as I’m with ye. I still hold to that. I promise to treat ye well.” He reached out and gently laid a hand on my arm. The gesture took me by surprise, and I flinched. Jamie’s face flushed and he hastily stepped back.

“I’ve just said ye need not fear for your safety whilst I’m with ye. After all the time we’ve spent together - have I ever given ye a reason to doubt my word?”

“No, of course not. I apologize.” I almost whispered as I looked down, looked anywhere, as long as I avoided that dark blue gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m just rather...nervous about all this.”

“Aye, well, ‘tis no wonder. But ye needn’t be afraid of me, Claire. I wasna planning to suddenly force myself on ye. I would never - no matter what Dougal may say about the matter.”

“Dougal?” I forgot my anxiety and raised my eyes to his. “What the bloody hell has he got to do with this?”

“Weel, it’s just that he and Ned have - made it plain to me, that if we are truly to keep ye out of Randall’s hands, the marriage must be legitimate.” His ears went pink again, and the flush slowly suffused the rest of his face. “It must be consummated, with witnesses.”

“What? Witnesses? Surely, you DON’T mean-”

“No! No. Er, not precisely. I mean, they’ll remain belowstairs, most likely.” He frowned. “Although I wouldna put it past him to post someone outside the door. He said, there must be no secret agreements between us. But Sassenach…” he paused and lightly gripped my arms with both hands, and leveled his serious gaze with mine, “I willna take that which is not freely given. Ye have my word.”


	2. Chapter 2

We stood that way for what seemed a long while, silent; the impassive expression on his face once again gone. His eyes held mine while a dozen emotions flickered through their depths. In that moment, for the first time since my trip through the stones, I no longer felt alone. 

Suddenly, I was conscious of his nearness as a wave of heat washed over me. His eyes dropped to my lips and rose again, and he released my arms and stepped back. I found I felt bereft without his touch. 

“Will you...stay with me for awhile? To talk?” My voice trembled as my nerves betrayed me. 

_Get a grip, Beauchamp. They aren’t sending you to the gallows. He’s a good man, and you could do worse. Much worse. Oh god, I wish he would touch me again._ I cleared my throat noisily. I sat on the edge bed and indicated that he should sit next to me.

He looked briefly taken aback by this improper suggestion and for a moment I thought he would decline. But then he nodded, and sat down, all while eyeing me as though I was a Christmas cracker that might snap apart if he touched me.

“What is it ye wish to talk about?” 

“I only wanted to explain. I mean - you must understand, I have only lost my husband so recently, that it - sometimes doesn’t feel real that he is gone.”

“Aye, I do understand. And so it feels that ye are betraying him, is that it?” I nodded and then cursed myself as I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I stood up, angry with myself, and paced the room half in frustration and half in misery.

“Damn it, I am _not_ a hysterical female. I refuse to act like one.” I stood before Jamie and looked at him accusingly. To my surprise, he laughed.

“Granted, Sassenach, sometimes ye don’t make much sense, but I’d hardly call ye hysterical. Ye’re the most practical woman I’ve ever met, I think. Dinna fash yerself, lass.”

“Oh, Jamie. It’s so much more than that.” I sat down once more. “It’s everything. I’ve lost my home, and my friends; and I’m surrounded by strangers who are suspicious of me. On top of that, a British army captain wants to take me captive, and the only solution involves complicating someone else’s life too - yours.”

“Claire, it will be be all right, I promise.” He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind, and a closed expression dropped over his face. I looked at him, and suddenly it was all just too much. 

_If only there was a way to stop the feeling that everything is spinning out of control, to feel that I have some say over my own life._ Then I looked up at him, and I knew.

“I think, to stand up before everyone tomorrow, to know that every word I speak, every movement, will be dissected, to know that they will be waiting for me to make a mistake...I can’t do it, Jamie. It’s more than I can bear.” I thought I saw disappointment flit across his face, but it was gone before I could be sure. 

“Aye. I see. But what will ye tell Dougal? I suppose we could make for Leoch, but half the men are in town making arrangements for the wedding, as we speak. And then, Randall’s not likely to let the matter go, ye ken. He’ll have men after us before-”

“No. No, you don’t understand.” I looked away. “I will marry you tomorrow. I want you to...take me to bed. Now.”

The speed in which Jamie’s complexion went from normal to something resembling a boiled lobster was impressive, and he sputtered, “But- ye just said-”

“No, I know that it must be done. But I simply can’t do it under a dozen pairs of eyes, with the leering and jesting. Don’t try to convince me otherwise, I’ve been on the road with you for a while now. I may not speak Gaelic, but I know what they’ve been saying.” I laid my hand gingerly over his, and kept my eyes focused there. “I want to do this on _my_ terms. At least right now, we have a bit of privacy.”

I finally raised my eyes to his to see him looking at me as though trying to decide whether I was in my right mind, and if so, what he should do about it. Apparently, an invitation from one’s fiancée wasn’t quite enough to overcome twenty-two years of Catholic guilt. 

_Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead._ I squeezed his hand and leaned closer to him. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the caution and the wanting in his.


	3. Chapter 3

I pressed my lips to his, gently, and he responded in kind as though by reflex. My lips parted slightly, and was hoping for a similar response from him, but found none. I drew back in dismay to look at him.

“I’m sorry. I- I thought- that maybe you wanted-” and as he continued to sit there in silence, I began to feel terribly embarrassed. 

“Aye. I do.” And before I could reply, he moved to entwine his hands in my hair as he dipped his head to kiss me, thoroughly. One hand crept down and around my waist, and held me tightly against him. It then proceeded to move lower, until he had got a firm grasp on my arse, and elicited an murmur of assent from me.

Without interrupting our kiss, he pushed me backwards down on the bed and lay with his full weight upon me. I found my own hands exploring the broad planes of his back, traveling further down until I had gotten a good grip of my own and pressing him to me, it became quite clear indeed that he _did_ want this. With a loud groan, he moved his mouth from mine and trailed kisses down my neck, pushing my hair aside to nuzzle me there. I parted my legs slightly, and he began rocking his hips against mine. 

“Oh god, Sassenach. _Oh- god!_ ” The rocking became more urgent, and I realized dimly that if we didn’t stop to undress, our first encounter would be over before it had begun.

“Jamie. Jamie, wait. Stop.” I pushed him off and sat up, catching my breath. I began to unlace the front of my dress as quickly as I could, with trembling fingers. Jamie sat, chest heaving as though he’d run a race, slow to react through the haze of lust. Once he realized what I was doing, he removed his boots and stripped his shirt, and then alternated between helping me with my petticoats and corset and covering my newly-exposed skin with kisses.

When I finally stood in nothing but my shift, he stopped and looked at me as though to make certain I wanted to continue. I looked into his eyes, and reached out to unclasp the belt of his kilt, and felt the _whuff_ of air as everything tumbled to the floor. 

Completely unabashed by his nakedness, he slowly stretched out his hand, and drew down the ties of my shift. Then he gathered me into his arms, and once more lay me down upon the bed. He pressed his lips to the hollow of my throat, and flicked his tongue there, and trailed down to my décolletage. Languidly, he lifted my shift up and over my head, and returned his attention to my breasts.

“Ye are so beautiful, Claire. I could never have imagined a woman like you,” he said softly. He kissed and caressed, and suckled and fondled, and ran his hands down my legs; until I felt them turn to jelly and a warmth coursed through my veins.

“Come up here,” I whispered, as I tried to pull him up to kiss me. He shifted up so that he lay by my side, our bodies exposed to each other. He ran his hand lightly down my side and hip and rested it there, looking at me, but not touching.

“Are ye sure that ye want to do this?” I nodded, and he continued, “Because I dinna think I can stop, once we’ve started.”

I swallowed what felt like my heart lodged in my throat, and desperately tried not to think of the man I’d left behind, while I lay naked in bed with a young Highlander I’d known for only a month. A Highlander whose virginity I was about to take. 

“Claire?” He lay his hand on my cheek and turned my face to his own. His eyes left mine for a moment and traveled over my unclothed form, causing me to blush. All over, apparently. He made a half-grin, but looked back to me, one eyebrow cocked in question. 

“Kiss me. I am sure, when you kiss me.” His blue eyes darkened, and the playfulness left his face. He covered my body with his, and when he kissed me, I kissed him back with equal ardor.


	4. Chapter 4

In the midst of this kiss, I suddenly seemed to become aware of his physical presence in a way I had been too distracted to notice until now. It was as though I’d finally given myself permission to admit how much I wanted him; how I’d felt attracted to him since the beginning, how my heart leapt whenever he looked at me, and how the nerve endings in my skin would thrum and sing whenever he touched me.

I hugged him tighter to me and deepened the kiss, needing to feel all of him on me all at once. He sensed the shift in my mood, and followed where I led. The pace quickened to something almost frantic, as he gripped the back of my head and I skimmed my hands over every part of him that I could reach. I reveled in the feel of his muscled arms and shoulders around my body, and the broad chest with its sprinkling of ginger hair against my smooth skin. Even as I traced the lines of the scars on his back, quick flashes of memory of the times I’d seen him shirtless were mingled with the new sensations his mouth and hands were creating within me.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, and pressed him to me until I felt his hardness pressing against my belly. I tilted my hips upward and he groaned, but did not move. Our eyes locked for a long moment and when I realized that he was unsure of whether he should go on, I reached down between us, and guided him to me. I just had time to wonder if virgins usually needed much instruction before he thrust hard into me. He groaned again, but this time his moans were eclipsed by my own, and I ceased to think.

*****

I opened my eyes as he moved off me onto the bed. As his breathing slowed, I placed my hand on his chest, over his heart. He turned to look at me and smiled, but did not speak.

“Hmm? All right?” I asked quietly, hoping to keep the awkwardness at bay.

“Aye.” He nodded and caught my hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss on the palm, but said nothing else.

“What is it?” I inquired. He hesitated, then looked at me ruefully.

“I didna realize it would be over so quickly.” His ears reddened and he looked away. “I hope it was...tolerable, for ye.” I chuckled and lay my hand on his cheek. 

“It’s perfectly normal, for a healthy young man’s first time. It gets better with practice,” I reassured him. He quirked an eyebrow at me.

“Practice, eh? Does that mean ye are planning to do it again?”

“Hmmmm...I thought maybe we would. After all, now I’ve taken advantage of you, we _have ___to get married,” I teased. Jamie looked surprised.

“What?”

“Ye sound as though ye don’t mind. Getting married. And- the other…I didna think women liked it. That it was only a duty.”

I didn’t quite know how to respond, so I caressed his chest while I looked for the words. I was still too shy in our new relationship to explain that I wanted to make the best of a bad situation, that I wanted to create a bond, if I could, that would allow us to start off on the right foot. And that I was using the feelings I already had for him to do it. Aware that I hadn’t answered him, I gave it up in favor of exploring his body more thoroughly. I had kissed my way down his chest and across his stomach when he interrupted me.

“Claire.” I stopped and rested my cheek by his navel and looked at him, though my fingers continued on the quest alone. He cleared his throat.

“Ahem. Ah...not that I’ve not been enjoying that, but I _am_ hoping that we’ll be able to talk to each other, as well.” He paused, and absent-mindedly started playing with a curl by my ear. “I’m sorry. I didna mean to ask you anything that made you uncomfortable.”

The words were still hanging there when suddenly he froze. A second later, he leaped out of bed and stood beside the window, flattened against the wall. He quickly glanced out, and then ducked back. It so alarmed me that I sat up and gathered the blanket around me.

“ _Ifrinn!!_ “ 

“Jamie! What on earth is the matter?!”

“Dougal. And Rupert and Angus. They’ve returned.” Then I heard their voices below in the dooryard, and Jamie turned and began to gather his clothes and get dressed. The voices stopped and the inn door opened and closed beneath us.

“What are you doing?” It was really quite amazing how quickly he could spread out and pleat his kilt, in preparation for putting it back on.

“I canna stay here, Claire. ‘Twould be dangerous to be found here with you, alone.” He lay down on the fabric and drew the belt underneath, and drew the sides together and clasped the belt. He sat up and gestured to the pile of my own clothing as he drew on his boots. “Get dressed, _mo ghràidh_."

Stunned, I pulled the shift over my head, and gathered my things together.

“I don’t understand. Why would it be dangerous?"

“Because, if word of this reached the priest, he could refuse to wed us.” Jamie stood and began inspecting the windows in the room, moving from one to the next without explanation. “And if we are not wed, Randall can demand we turn ye over. More than that, if the men knew…” He stopped by a small window near the fireplace and tugged up the sash. The room, being the largest that the inn offered, was a corner chamber that looked out both over the main dooryard as well as the kitchen yard along the side of the building. He looked out to the yard below, then drew his head back in and measured the width of the window.

“I’m getting rather tired of saying this, but what _are_ you doing? And what if the men knew you were here?”

“Isn’t it obvious that I’m looking for a way out? I canna just stroll down the stairs as though I’ve returned from paying a social call, especially not where Dougal can see me. I’ll have to drop out of the window and come in through the front door, so that it looks like I’ve been outside the whole time. Here, Sassenach, do ye need help with the laces?"

“No…so- that’s it? You must leave me now, and I won’t see you again until tomorrow morning? No, don’t ask. I have no intention of coming down and having supper with all of them.” I glanced up and saw him look helplessly at me. Wordlessly, he opened his arms and came to me and enfolded me in them.

“I’ll come back. I’ll find a way if I can, though it may not be ‘till late.”

We stood silent for a minute as the warmth between us built up. I could feel his body beginning to stir, mirroring the response in my own.

“Claire,” he whispered.

“Oh, Jamie. I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He held me tighter.

“I’ll be back. I’ll come back.” He released me and strode to the window. He turned and took in my state of undress. “Finish dressing, Sassenach. I’ll send the maid up with some supper.” He looked out again. “I must go now, no one is about.”

“Wait.” I crossed the small space and embraced him, and kissed him with all the feeling that I had been unable to put into words. 

“Go, then. But come back to me, Jamie.”

He grinned and squeezed through the window, and was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

*****

Jamie paused for a moment on the ground, scanning the landscape to see if his getaway had been observed. Finding no one in sight, he quickly straightened and walked around the side of the inn to the dooryard. Where he nearly collided with Murtagh, returned from his trip into the village.

He was unable to contain a yelp of surprise, and Murtagh turned away from the horse he was unloading to face him.

“Eh, where did you come from?”

“I was using the privy,” Jamie hastily improvised. “Were ye successful?” He nodded in the direction of the horse.

“Aye.” Murtagh scrutinized Jamie’s face briefly, then handed him a large parcel. “Come and help rub the beast down.”

Murtagh took the reins and led the horse to the stable. Jamie breathed a prayer of thanks that he hadn’t been found out, and followed him.

*****

I stood staring at the open window for a few moments, unable to sort through the million different thoughts going through my mind. Somehow, I finished lacing my corset, and sat down on the bed to put my stockings and garters back on. I continued dressing while I absentmindedly gazed at the place Jamie had disappeared.

 _Did that really just happen? How is it that it everything could have just happened, yet suddenly feel as though we have been together for a hundred years?_ I thought of the way he had looked at me before he escaped, and my heart made a queer thump in my chest. I spied the mussed blankets on the bed out of the corner of my eye, and automatically set about straightening up and making sure there was nothing to see that might inspire a bored serving girl to gossip. I leaned over to smooth down a pillow, and as I moved my hand across, I noticed a red hair lying on top. All at once, a sob escaped my throat, and I clutched the pillow to me as my knees buckled to the floor. 

_It wasn’t awkward at all, and you know it, Beauchamp. You were only afraid to let him see what you feel, because you don’t want to be hurt if he doesn’t feel the same. But, I think he does. And he is just as afraid as you are. You thought you knew what love felt like, but you were wrong._

“Damn you, Frank Randall.” I wept into the pillow.

*****

Dougal stepped out of the inn’s front door and scanned the yard. As he walked in the direction of the stable, he heard Murtagh’s voice, speaking with Jamie.

“...Claire’s smile is just as sweet.” He walked in as Murtagh handed Jamie a brooch. 

“There ye are. The lads say ye’ve been gone the entire afternoon.” He fixed Jamie with a glare. “Where have ye been?” Jamie sent his uncle a glare of his own as he put the brooch in his sporran and gathered up the wedding clothes Murtagh had gone out for. 

“I went out on my own. I needed some time to clear my head after all the relentless bellowing this morning.” He stalked out of the stable without a backward glance, sending Dougal scurrying after him.

“What are ye thinking?” Dougal caught up to Jamie and grabbed him by the arm. “Here we are, trying to fix this state of affairs with Mistress Beauchamp, and you decide that showing yerself to the redcoats is the best way to distract them?! Is this your way of getting out of the marriage contract? Ye’d rather bide in a cell at Fort William instead of standing at the altar?” Jamie yanked his arm away in annoyance.

“I wasn’t seen. Don’t worry, uncle. Nothing will disturb yer plans.” Dougal stepped in front of Jamie.

“To what plans are ye referring?” he said angrily. 

Jamie paused before answering, and looking directly into his Dougal’’s eyes, replied, “Why, the wedding, of course.” He neatly sidestepped his uncle, who seemed to have turned to stone, and walked into the inn.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Jamie walked without seeing, his emotions a bundle of chaos. He was startled when his arm was seized again, but relaxed when he realized it was held by Murtagh.

“Hey! I’m talking to ye, lad!” He frowned and took the bundle of clothes from Jamie and deposited them on a nearby bench. “Have ye lost yer wits? Not five minutes ago we were talking about my running yer errands for ye because of the redcoats crawling about. And now yer saying ye thought a trip to the necessary as likely a time as any for a constitutional?” Jamie sighed.

“I’m not interested in an argument. I didn’t leave the vicinity of the inn and I wasn’t seen. Now if ye’ll excuse me, I must order Mistress Beauchamp’s supper. I don’t suppose she’ll be feeling like keeping company with us this evening.”

Jamie went in search of the serving girl, and so did not see the long hard look given by his godfather.

*****

Though I’d taken my time musing over my situation while finishing dressing and putting up my hair, not likely more than an hour had passed since Jamie had left me. I was so agitated by the idea that it would be at least a few more hours yet before I could expect his return, that I began to regret declining to take supper with the men. Even as I thought it, I knew it was for the best; for now I felt sure they would be able to detect a change between Jamie and me. I paced the room restlessly.

 _God, what I’d give for a book to read right now. Or knitting. Even though I don’t know_ how _to knit. I *must* find something to occupy my mind until supper is brought._

I seized upon the idea of reciting the names of all the bones in the human body, and had got to the second proximal phalange of the left hand when I finally heard a knock at the door. My heart leapt into my throat at the idea that Jamie might possibly be on the other side.


	6. Chapter 6

I opened the door to reveal a maidservant hoisting a tray laden with food, and a bottle of whisky. The supper Jamie had promised me.

“Oh, just over there, then.” I gestured to a table as I expelled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I reached for the bottle and poured myself a glass while the maid fussed with the plates. I’d just taken a long swallow when I heard someone loudly clearing their throat behind me. I jumped and coughed as I turned around.

“Beg pardon, mistress,” Murtagh apologized, flustered. “I only came to see if there is anything ye needed for tomorrow.” His eyes roamed the room, I felt to avoid looking at me.

“Er, thank you. I don’t think so-”

“Och, mistress, ye must not leave this open to the night air!” The maid having noticed a draft, moved to close the window. 

I glanced at the maid, and then to Murtagh, to find his gaze fixed on me. He looked over at the maid, pulling the sash down, and slowly back at me. I felt myself flush from head to toe, and too confused to know what to say. So I remained silent.

“The time for the ceremony has been fixed at nine. I suggest ye get a good night’s rest for the morrow. Good e’en, mistress.” He inclined his head respectfully and strode from the room.

The maidservant finished lighting several candles around the room, and left after I assured her I had all I needed. I sat and picked at the leg of mutton while I stared into the fire. _Everything, save Jamie_.

I looked back at the closed window, and again at the fire. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had risen and gone to open the window again, just enough to allow Jamie in. I pulled the blanket from the bed and wrapped myself in it, and flopped back down in the chair by the fire. I abandoned the mutton for the bottle of whisky and a glass. It promised to be a long night.

****

Murtagh sought out Dougal, sitting alone in a dark corner of the public room. His stormy expression warned off most comers; though he appeared to have been waiting for this one.

“Well?” Dougal addressed Murtagh, as he took a seat beside him. 

“Naught seems amiss,” said Murtagh, with a shake of his head. “I think maybe ye’re overconcerned. Still….”

His voice trailed off as he looked over at Jamie, sitting with the men amidst raucous laughter. Everyone had a bit of advice to share for his upcoming nuptials, to the general amusement of the group. Jamie, however, appeared to be miles away, staring at nothing, his fingers drumming nervously on his leg.

“I want to have men watching them tomorrow,” Dougal said quietly. “I am sure that despite her assurances to the contrary, there is something Mistress Beauchamp is not telling us.” He raised his eyes and took in the scene before them.

“The lad, too. Something is not right, and I’ll be damned if I won’t get it out of them. Arrange it with Rupert and Angus.” He leaned his head back against the wall with a sigh, and closed his eyes for a moment, before grabbing Murtagh’s arm as he began to rise.

“And _-after-_ the wedding, as well. Make sure they understand.” Dougal released his arm, and relaxed and closed his eyes once more.

Murtagh paused and took in this last directive, before walking over to the table where the men were gathered. He filled a mug with ale, and studied Jamie for a moment while he slaked his thirst. He went to stand beside him and found him still oblivious to the company surrounding them. Murtagh kicked him in the foot to gain his attention.

“Aye?” Jamie grunted, startled. “What was that for?”

Murtagh picked up the empty peat basket on the hearth and tossed it in his direction. “The fire’s low. Make yerself useful, eh?”

Jamie scowled, but took the basket and stood to do as he was bid. Murtagh watched as he went back to the kitchen, before turning the other direction himself, to leave by the front door as though to go to the stable.

Once outside, Murtagh quickly walked around to the back of the building, to the lean-to outside the kitchen.  
There, he found Jamie filling the basket from a pile of peats by the door. At his godfather’s approach, Jamie straightened and looked quizzically at the older man.

“What’s this? Why not come through the kitchen, as I did?”

“What ails ye, lad? Ye’ve been acting very strangely all day - ever since ye agreed to marry Mistress Beauchamp, tomorrow.” The expressionless mask Murtagh knew so well arranged itself upon Jamie’s face.

“Is that it?” Murtagh asked. “Ye are nervous about the wedding? About the _bedding_? Ah, lad. Dinna be worrit. Women generally dinna care much for it, in any case.”

“Did ye come out here to give me marriage advice?” Jamie said. “How would ye know, anyway?” He bent back to his task. Murtagh huffed and crossed his arms.

“No, that’s not why I wanted to speak with ye.” He paused, wondering how best to explain. 

“Dougal is still suspicious of Mistress Beauchamp. He plans to have men watching her carefully tomorrow.” Jamie stopped and straightened again.

“And you,” Murtagh added.

“Is that so?” Jamie wasn’t sure how to react. “It doesna seem that he’s thought the plan through carefully then, if it includes informing me of it. And why are ye telling me this?”

 _”Amadain,”_ Murtagh muttered under his breath. “Ye’re a Fraser. Do ye really think I would pledge fealty to that power hungry scoundrel before one of my own kin? It may suit Colum MacKenzie to put his brother in charge of his affairs; but it suits _me_ to have Dougal believe I’m a willing lackey for his family. Nay, Dougal Mackenzie will always put his own interests first, and I have suspected for some time that he believes ye to be a hindrance to him. I wouldna trust him any farther than I could throw him.”

Jamie ruefully rubbed the place on the back of his head where he’d been attacked, clubbed, meant to have been killed. He wasn’t sure who it had been, but he had an idea.

“Aye. Alright, then. What would ye have me do?”

“I dinna know. Just be careful. And be aware - he will have them listening to every word ye both say. Even after the wedding. Dinna embarrass yerself.” Murtagh affectionately squeezed Jamie's arm, then turned to go.

“Go, then. I must take a look at the beasts first. The stablelad didna give them enough feed, yesterday.”

He left Jamie and went round the inn the way he’d come. A light caught his eye, and he glanced up. He’d thought that Mistress Beauchamp would have gone to sleep by now, but he could see several candles were still lit in the room. He stood in the yard, bathed in the glow of the light streaming through the window.

The _open_ window.


	7. Chapter 7

Though it was not yet late, the emotions of the day, combined with the whisky, served to exhaust me. Whilst waiting for Jamie’s return in my chair by the fire, I fell asleep and dreamt fitfully.

*****

_I was standing in front of the mirror in our room at Mrs. Baird’s bed and breakfast, brushing my hair. Suddenly, Frank was next to my reflection in the mirror; but not in the room with me._

_“Frank! Where are you?!” I dropped the brush and put my hand to its reflection in the mirror._

_“I’m here, Claire - I’ve been here all along. I’ve been searching everywhere for you, darling, where are you?” He gripped my shoulders frantically._

_“I don’t know-” I started to explain, but he interrupted._

_“Why did you leave me?” His voice was filled with emotion. “Is it because I can’t give you what you need? I’ll wait, Claire.”_

_“What do you mean? I didn’t mean to leave you,” I said, bewildered._

_“I’ll wait. It’s alright,” he said again. He and my mirror image turned to look at the room, and behind them, I saw Jamie, naked and sleeping soundly in the bed._

_“He can love you in the way you need. He can give you a family. You can stay with him for awhile, and when you have what you want, you can come back to me. I’ll be waiting here for you, darling.”_

_I was still looking through the mirror at myself looking at Jamie, and suddenly Frank was gone. A strong draft stirred the curtains of the open window and brought in the cold and rain. I leaned to look out the window, and in the shadows of the street below, I could see Frank standing, looking up at me. I called out to him, but he turned and walked away, until the rain hid him from my sight._

_I turned back to the room to find Jamie now sitting on the edge of the bed, kilted but shirtless, seeming to hold his arm to himself. His face betrayed some pain._

_“Have you hurt your shoulder again?” I said, walking to him and putting my hand on his arm._

_“Nay, it’s not my shoulder. I have given ye my heart, though ye dinna know it yet. I need ye, Claire.”_

_“I...I don’t know what to do,” I said, helplessly._

_“Isna there anything in your time that will help?”_

_“I- yes, of course. Perhaps an injection,” I stammered. I went to open the bedroom door, to reveal the circle of stones on Craigh na Dun. Then Jamie was there, standing in the center, in full dress and carrying a sword. He held his hand out to me._

_“Will ye come?” I hesitated, and looked back at the room behind me. I turned back to him, indecisively._

_“Aye, I understand.” His hand dropped to his side. “Whether ye stay with me or return to your own time, I’ll always be with ye, Claire. I’ll always love ye.”_

_I looked back again, to see that the room was no longer there. And when I turned back to the stone circle, it was empty._


	8. Chapter 8

A loud thump shook me awake, and I looked around dazedly, not sure at first what had happened. A quiet Gaelic curse coming from the shadows near the window seized my attention. I’d been asleep for quite a long time; two of the candle stubs in the room had burnt out and a cramp in my neck and shoulder attested to the uncomfortable position I’d spent hours sitting in. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I could make out Jamie’s figure sprawled out on the floor. I immediately jumped up and as I went to help him to his feet, he gestured emphatically to keep quiet. We stood there for a long minute or two, he with his head cocked attentively as he listened carefully to see if his noisy entrance had roused anyone downstairs. Satisfied at last that he’d not be discovered, he relaxed and closed the window as quietly as he could. 

“I’m sorry, Sassenach, my foot caught on the sill as I climbed in. Not the graceful entrance I wanted to make.” He spoke in hushed tones, and I replied in kind.

“How on earth did you get in? I’m sorry, I meant to stay awake, but-”

“I stacked some boxed goods under the window, then jumped to get ahold of the sill. My arms are burnin’ something fierce from hauling myself up.” He rubbed the arm and shoulder that had been dislocated when we’d first met. 

“Oh, I do hope you haven’t reinjured yourself!” I automatically moved to feel his shoulder to reassure myself there was no new damage. It only took a moment, but all at once I remembered where I was, and _why_ , and what was meant to be happening in the morning, and I realized there was a lump in my throat. Suddenly, his presence was overwhelming and I could not bring myself to meet his eyes.

“No, no, it’s fine. Claire.” He put his hand on mine and stilled them. I kept my eyes focused on our hands, but he touched my cheek, and I felt his breath on my face as he leaned closer to me. His fingers trailed down my face and to the back of my neck, and buried themselves in my hair. He stopped, and I looked up to see why. 

_You belong here._

I was not sure if I’d read it in his eyes, or if my heart had spoken. Wherever it came from, it seemed to be an answer to all the questions that had plagued me since I had woken in the circle at Craigh na Dun. 

“I havena been able to think of anything but this since I left ye earlier,” Jamie said, a bit hoarsely. “I would have done anything to see ye again. Even break down the door, if necessary.” He swallowed hard. “That is- if ye still want me here.”

I met his gaze, and held it longer than I ever had before, and passed a thousand conversations in those moments. I saw his kindness, and his integrity. I saw desire, and I saw him see the same in my eyes. I saw him ask me to bed.

The chill in the room was gone as he surrounded me with his presence, his warmth, his scent, his strength. I realized, I could always _feel_ him, whenever he was nearby. I thought that if I closed my eyes, I would have been able to find him no matter where he was, for all the world as if I were a magnet and he, my piece of iron. And whenever he was close to me, the tiny hairs on my body would stand on end, and thousands of nerve endings all over me would tingle - like going through the stones. Like making love. Like climaxing.

“Yes. I still want you here.” I urgently pulled his head down to me and he opened his mouth on mine and I tasted the ale on his breath. My body flushed, and my heart thudded in my ears. He was panting as I tried with shaking hands to pull his shirt off over his head. He dragged his mouth down my neck and breathed heavily there while undoing the lacings of my dress, then the corset.

We fumbled at each other’s clothes and touched and tasted with hands and mouths, learning the feel and the tang of each other’s bodies. He pushed me against the wall and dragged his tongue and his teeth down my throat to my breast and drew the nipple into his mouth and sucked while the stubble on his face rasped and burned against my bare skin.

He drew his hands down my sides and hips and wrapped them around my arse, squeezing, until the sensation of him at my breast and him at my arse made me want more and I took his hand and put it between my legs and squirmed until he could feel the wetness. Jamie moaned and moved away from his ministrations to my bosom.

“Here? Do you want me to touch ye here?” At my wordless nod, he continued, “Do you want me to kiss ye here? Tell me what ye want, Claire.”

“I want your mouth on me, your tongue on me, in me,” I whispered. And at that, he stood and picked me up as though I weighed nothing, and carried me to the bed and laid down with me still in his arms. He rose up on his elbows so that the whole length of his body hovered over mine, the cool air between us making my skin blaze, aching, _keening_ for his touch. I looked down and saw his cock, hard and heavy, between his legs, so close to me.

He kissed me hard, drawing at my tongue while his calloused hands caressed my belly and thighs until I whimpered for more. He left my mouth and moved down and held my legs apart and kissed me there, his breath warm and tickling where I was most sensitive until I needed more.

I showed him where to touch me, suck me, use his fingers. Until his tongue was on me and his fingers in me and his other hand grasping my arse and a heavy, warm tightness started in my belly, and spread to my breasts, and legs, and arms, and the places he was touching me, and I climaxed, spasming around his fingers and on his mouth.

And then he was over me again, and I arched my back so that we were skin to skin, and he took my hands in his and held them over my head while he lowered his hips to my pelvis, teasing my belly with his cock, and my wetness throbbing for him. I tried to unclasp one hand to touch him there, but he held them tighter, and shifted down and nudged my legs apart to enter me swiftly, hard, making both of us cry out in pleasure.

He bowed his head to the curve of my neck while instinctively driving his hardness into me, filling me over and over, until I thought I would die if he left me. My own blood pooled down there and my sight dimmed to darkness full of stars, but a darkness filled with the feel of Jamie’s chest rasping over my nipples, and the sound of our sighs and moans.

He reared up with his hands still holding mine above my head, and caught my gaze and held it as he moved faster and harder, as if we were rising in the air and riding to the end of a cliff, a parted sea whose two halves crashed together when the darkness finally settled around us.


End file.
